Dreadful Thoughts and Dreams of a Chaotic Pisckie Priest in the West of Scotland

Tuesday, 17 July 2012

When the Cat's Away..

In my curacy, many moons ago, I got upset when Sunday numbers went down when the Boss went off on holiday. Who did they come to church for, I would ask! On his return, he'd try to comfort me with, "Well, when the cat's away...". Much the same happens in St Aug's today, and my numbers drop dreadfully when I'm off enjoying myself, but that's for another day, or another sermon!

What happens when the people are away? Let me explain...

Before going off on holiday this year, we made the usual arrangements for the dogs. Archie has to go to kennels because he's too big for everyone. However, with cattery fees being so high, we thought we would run an experiment this year. Let the cats stay at home, and the lad across the road could come in every day to feed them. During the day, the upstairs bedroom window could stay open to let them come and go as they pleased. It sounded like a good idea at the time. It really did!

On our return from holiday, about midnight, we noticed a few feathers in the living room, and we suspected the worst. The young lad explained that there had been various birds and little mice removed during the three weeks, and he suspected the fireside rug had, maybe, been used as a litter tray once or twice.

Sure enough, as a couple of days went by, there was indeed a strange sort of smell battling with the RW's various air-fresheners in the room, and the fireside rug was duly washed and disinfected. Still the smell persisted, and was getting worse, despite our laminate flooring.

A hunt was commissioned, and there it was.. a great dirty, dead, rat, hiding away at the back, underneath the little coffee table in the corner of the room. decomposure was minimal, as the house has been pretty freezing and we really wonder if it's possible that it's been lying there for a week or more, but there it was in all its glory.

I now sit in a living room stinking of bleach and disinfectant, which the air-fresheners are fighting a losing battle with. The rug is still outside trying to dry, and two little faces look at me in all innocence.

When the cat's away... well, when the people who live here are away... the little sods are going back to the cattery next time, and no mistake!

About Me

Just a wee Episcopalian priest in the two best parishes in the West of Scotland. An avid, depressed Partick Thistle Nil Fan, and a Procrastinator of Distinction, with two dogs, two cats and a Rectory Wife, (The RW), I post bits for everyone, or sometimes nobody at all except me!